Every Bit as Bad
by ladypearlofarguile
Summary: Balin tells an interesting story to Fili and Kili about their uncles, Thorin and Frerin. Bit of angst tossed in as well. Characters include the royally troublesome trio, Thorin, Frerin, and Dis. Oh, and angry Balin. Humor/Family/Angst/Friendship Please review & Comment!


**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NONE OF THESE CHARACTERS OR PLACES, ALL OF WHICH BELONG TO THE MARVELOUS J.R.R. TOLKIEN. I MERELY PLAYED ABOUT WITH HIS CREATION. THANKYA. OH YEAH, GOT NO MONEY FROM THIS EITHER. *Turns out empty pockets***

**Author's note: Credit goes to my sister, (ChildofMars) for helping me come up with this idea! Don't forget to check her out! :)**

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"You don't know how it is at all Bilbo. You can't understand the pain we go through!" Kili looked quite solemn as he declared this, widening his eyes ever so slightly to prove that he was telling the truth.

After a long, and hard day of traveling, the company of Thorin Oakenshield had finally come to their destination for the day. Exhausted, the Dwarves had fallen one by one to sleep after their simple meal, laying in whatever comfortable place they could find. Dwalin and Bofur had laid themselves next to a tree, propping their heads on its deep roots. Bombur had laid close by the fire, anxious to be the first one for breakfast the following morning. A sound plan. Thorin lay covered warmly in his furs, and snoring softly, content to rest until dawn. The rest had attempted to find comfortable places, but as these were few and far in between, most had to settle for less accommodating places. This however proved no great obstacle. Dwarves enjoy their rest, and there are few things on this earth that can keep them from it if they are so inclined.

While the rest were sleeping quite soundly, Fili and Kili were still engaged in an animated conversation with the company's hired Burglar, Mr. Baggins. They took great joy informing the Hobbit of all the wrongs that they felt they had suffered at the hands of their Uncle and Mother. Bilbo was indeed finding it difficult not to laugh out loud, but Fili and Kili looked so earnest that he could not find it within his heart to laugh. The thoughtful fellow did his very best to look as solemn as they, but every now and then a chuckle or smile would escape from him despite his efforts.

"Aye!" Fili continued for his brother, "Would you believe, that our mother, said we were incorrigible! Can you imagine that? Incorrigible! It wounds me to the heart to think on it!" His face took on a pained expression, as he struck himself dramatically in the chest where said organ resided.

The Hobbit took up a drink to his lips, listening intently to the Dwarven brother's woes.

"It hurt more when she took a frying pan to him." Kili nodded vigorously, his hair bouncing with the enthusiasm. The fearsome image was still strong in both brother's minds. Of course there had been no mention of the prank the lads had played on one of their many cousins, it was not important after all. Dis had been quite upset, and the lads had found themselves fleeing before her face. It was not until many hours later, that they had dared step back into the house, only to find their Uncle waiting for them. He had heard of their doings, and had been very displeased. But that was not important, what was important was that Dis had threatened to use the frying pan to great effect.

Bilbo, upon hearing the last comment, spluttered into his drink. Fili, noticing the Burglar's predicament and feeling quite helpful, patted him on the back in an attempt to right the situation. This however, did nothing to relieve Bilbo.

"Believe it or not Bilbo, but that's what happens. I'd swear on my beard." Fili continued patting the coughing Hobbit as Bilbo finally managed to regain control.

Balin smiled in amusement at the scene. He had agreed to take first watch, and stood by the fire warming his hands in the orange glow, the chattering continuing behind him. It was nice to see how easily the lads had bonded with the Hobbit, sometimes he could swear that they seemed as thick as thieves. Hearing their talk of mischief reminded him of long gone days, and other Dwarflings with an eye for mischief. He chuckled, remembering the absurd situations that the said children had gotten themselves into. He remembered well.

"No one appreciates jokes these days! It's very hard Bilbo. Very hard." Kili looked quite mournful as he stated this, "and people have the nerve to call us bad! Can you believe that?"

"Oh aye, I can believe that." Balin chuckled. "But I wouldn't worry too much about it. I remember two Dwarflings that nearly everyone else called 'bad' as well. But they turned out quite well, and now nothing but their praise is sung."

Fili and Kili's features brightened on noticing the old Dwarf, and sensing that a story was to follow made a space for him to sit and beckoned Balin to join them. Balin smiled, Fili and Kili were still like young Dwarflings in so many ways. Sitting down on a convenient log, he pulled out his pipe and lighting it inhaled deeply, savoring the smell. All the while the Hobbit and two Dwarves looked expectantly at him.

Puffing for a few moments, he finally began his narration.

"The tale has its beginnings many years ago, long before you Fili were born. And you Kili, and I daresay you Mr. Baggins. Far beyond the Blue Mountains, within the long lost kingdom of Erebor. The very kingdom we go on this quest to reclaim."

Grinning, Kili elbowed Bilbo, as if to assure the Hobbit that this tale would be of a legendary quality, having its roots in the the Lonely Mountain. The Hobbit squirmed, settling himself into a more comfortable position. He did not need a tale of Erebor to be interested. A story about any of the peoples of Middle Earth was enough to have his full attention.

"Erebor!" exclaimed Fili. "The Lonely Mountain!"

"The same." Balin nodded gravely. "Now listen to the story Laddies; no more interruptions!"  
Fili and Kili shifted into more comfortable positions, eyes wide as Balin presented his tale of bygone days. Over rivers and ranges, to the Lonely Mountain, and the Dwarven Kingdom of Erebor in the days of its splendor. Back when Thror was King Under the Mountain, ruling his people as the Heir of Durin.

"I myself am in this story, though I was not as grey then as I am now perhaps." The older Dwarf chuckled in amusement, thinking of the past, as his audience grinned back. Unknown to the four, Thorin Oakenshield watched the proceedings with a nostalgic and faraway look in his eyes. as Balin continued, speaking of Erebor in its golden age and all its glory. The Hobbit and two Dwarves stared, wide-eyed, taking in every detail from their storyteller. Thorin made no sound as he listened intently, despite the fact that the tale was well known to him, and etched upon his heart. Balin was a good storyteller, and made the memory seem as fresh as the day it had happened. The Heir of Durin closed his eyes, letting the words reform the shapes and figures in his mind.

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_A cheerful whistle echoed and bounced along the stone causeway, as a Dwarf with a great brown beard trudged along his merry way. His eyes twinkle with a good natured shine, a smile graces his features, and it seems as if it is almost a permanent resident upon his face. His name is Balin, son of Fundin, and newly come to the Mountain. He has come with a number of companions, all greatly skilled, and all eager to offer their services to the great and fabled King Under the Mountain. An elegantly written letter in parchment is tucked firmly under his arm, as he enjoys the extraordinary view that the mountain affords. _

_It is a fine morning, with the sun shining brightly, pouring its rays over the mountain. The City of Dale is a small cluster at the foot of the mountain, gazing up in awe at the Dwarven Kingdom. A group of Ravens sun themselves on a low hanging roof of a storage room, cawing at the Dwarf on seeing him as if in greeting. _

_Balin smiled. _

_"And a very fine morning to you as well my friends!" the Dwarf nods at the friendly birds. _

_The Mountain is indeed everything and more he had heard of. Things look quite favorable, and Balin believes that this is indeed the start to a perfect day. _

_Meanwhile, a few turns away found the young Dwarf prince, Thorin, and his royal sister Dis charging through the streets in a manner most unusual for the royal line. They twist and weave as only young children are able through the workers, craftsmen, and guards who are on their way to their various destinations. Thorin is perhaps but 13 years old, with his short dark beard already growing in. He casts his eyes about frantically, as if searching for someone. His 8 year old sister, Dis, follows. Her blonde hair flying about wildly, having found its way out of the braids and clip that she had placed there so carefully that morning. _

_"Where is he?!" Thorin seems desperate and ready to despair._

_"I saw him go this way! Come on!" Dis urges. Growling she continues, "It really isn't fair! He does all the mischief, and we all get blamed. You know what he's doing!? He tainting our reputations!"_

_Thorin pants heavily as he follows his light footed sibling, stumbling for a moment over a loose rock as they fly over the smooth pavement. A number of Dwarves shout angrily after being nearly bowled over, shaking their fists at the disturbance as apples and other wares crash to the ground._

_"You know...this really-really- has to stop!" Thorin breathily shouts to his sister. "I mean, I can't keep doing this every time he decides to amuse himself! It's getting ridiculous!" Dis stops and raises her hand, glancing about like a hunter looking for her prey. Thorin is only too happy to stop, goodness knows what people think of the heirs of Durin, running about like mad dwarves. _

_"There he is!" Dis shouts, running full speed in the direction she believes their prey has gone in. _

_Thorin gives a sigh, looking heavenward as if asking for strength, and races to catch up with his sister. Seeing their target, his face takes on a determined look, as he gives an extra burst of speed and passes Dis. The target is unaware of their presence. _

_Frerin smiles wickedly to himself. His target is completely oblivious to the hunter. He raises his bow in the empty street, ready for the unsuspecting dwarf. His weapon is quite peculiar, to those unaware of his methods, but deadly all the same. (Or so he liked to believe.) The shaft of his arrow has had the point removed, and replaced with a bulbous bag of an oozing liquid. He has worked on this masterpiece for days, and the time has come to try it out. He wrinkles his nose at the smell and grins, thinking of the spectacle he is about to cause. Ah! What is that? Whistling! Perfect. The young Dwarven archer, hidden in his hiding place next to a crate narrows his eyes and pulls back the string of his bow, ready for the shot. _  
_Balin steps into the curiously empty street. It is odd. The others are so full and busy, why is it not so with this one? He shrugs, dismissing the question from his mind, whistling a jolly tune the entire way. _

_He suddenly hears a shout, and turns sharply, tune dying on his lips. _

_"FRERIN!" comes the surprisingly impressive roar of a young Dwarfling, as he leaps at a crate. It is then that Balin sees what is happening. Another Dwarfling, hidden in the shadows sees the other, and frantically moves to let loose- what is this?! A bow?! _

_The angry Dwarfling slams hard into the hidden one, followed closely by a girl who is also shouting angrily. The hidden one lets out a small "oof!" as the other crashes into him, letting go of the string. Balin's eyes widen to the size of saucers, as he sees a shaft speeding towards him. _

_Before Balin is able to take even a step backwards, the shaft smashes into his face, the bulbous sack exploding in an oozy and foul smelling liquid. Drenching his beard and face. He falls back, falling into and obliterating an empty wooden crate. The children slowly get up, gazing at the mess in horror and shock. Even Frerin seems a little surprised at the destruction he had caused. _

_Balin's initial thought had been that he had died. But he quickly dismissed this idea, due to the fact he could still smell that chokingly offensive smell that invaded all his senses. _

_Scrambling up with a deadly rage he wiped the offensive slime from his face. Looking up he caught sight of the three gawking Dwarflings. His face growing hot with anger he felt frantically and picked up a piece of wood from what remained of the crate. These scoundrels would pay! _

_"You- You! You Hooligans!" he shouted, picking up the wood and waving it about as one crazed. _

_The eyes of all three of the siblings grew wide, they had not counted on an enraged Dwarf. Dwarves can be very fierce, and it is not wise to give them reason to be so. The moment Balin took a step forward however, no power on in this world could convince them to stay. They fled down the lane, running over the cobblestones with the speed only fear can give. _

_Balin would not let them get away so easily, he immediately gave chase. His anger fueling him to a great speed. _

_Frerin, feeling the thrill of the chase started to snicker uncontrollably, to which Dis began heaping words of insult upon him. Frerin merely kept laughing, enjoying the situation immensely. _

_Thorin awkwardly called apologies over his shoulder, but would not stop for fear of what the enraged Balin might do, as he showed no sign of being calm for the moment being. _

_"I must-must apologize for my brother's behavior!" Thorin shouted futilely, as the children disappeared down the paved road to a place of refuge from the maddened Dwarf._

_Unfortunately, Balin had never been a great runner, and within a short while the scoundrels had escaped him. He leaned against a wall, gasping for breath and swearing. A guard stood leaning against the other wall, no doubt shirking his duty for a few precious moments, and Balin between gasps of air demanded justice. _

_"Did-Did you see that!?" he fairly shouted, "I was attacked by those Hooligans! Are there no laws against such vicious attacks!?" _

_The guard smiled in amusement at the vexed Balin and asked in a cool and even voice, "You're new here aren't you?" _

_"Yes. But what does that have to do with it?!" Balin was quite perplexed, and the Guard seemed to find this all too funny. The fellow even had the nerve to start chuckling. _

_"What are you laughing at?!" Balin hotly demanded. _

_"Oh, um." The guard coughed, attempting to prove that he had not been amused in the slightest, "Oh nothing!" _

_Balin growled at the guard and turned to leave, he was tired and bruised from where he had fallen. He had a schedule to keep. _

_"Oh sir!" The guard called to Balin, now chuckling as loudly as ever, "Sir! You may want to see to your face!" _

_Balin ignored him. Fool. Why did they hire such buffoons?_

_He had not walked but perhaps two streets, when he noticed the passing merchants and other Dwarves staring at him curiously. What? Hadn't they seen a newcomer before? Was it that obvious? But then he remembered the guard's words. Quickly, he asked a passing merchant for a mirror. The merchant, hoping for a potential buyer gladly obliged, but could not help but glance every now and then at the curious sight before him. Balin raised the mirror to view his face, and gave a loud gasp. His face, had been stained a deep and crimson shade of royal purple! _

_"Villains! Knaves! Scoundrels!" Balin shouted to the air, followed by a long string of curses. Turning back to the astonished merchant, he barked. _

_"Quickly! A hooded cape! Have you one?!"_

_The merchant was still somewhat stupefied by Balin's violent outburst, but quickly recovered sensing a deal. He pulled from his pack a rather poor and worn cape and hood, and then proposed a price three times the worth of the item. If he had been expecting to haggle for the next half hour with Balin, he was disappointed (or pleasantly surprised) as Balin paid the said amount immediately. _

_Drawing the cloak about him and hiding his face as well as he could, Balin raced to his lodging as quickly as possible. He could not bear a royal audience looking like this! But he would have to hurry, if he was to have any audience at all. So much for the perfect day. _

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_Three Dwarflings sat sullenly on a stone bench, watching the traffic and bustle of the Mountain Kingdom. Thorin's face was dark and stormy, as he scowled at his younger brother. Dis scowled at Frerin as well, who made a face at her. This was returned by a sharp kick from Dis. _

_"Ouch!" yelped Frerin, rubbing his leg. "What's that for?!" _

_"You know what for!" Dis barked back. _

_"Look." said Frerin, "We got away from the nutter didn't we? And you have to admit, it was some good fun!" Turning to Thorin, who now had his head in his hands thinking about what would happen should their grandfather hear of their doings, Frerin smirked. "And I haven't seen Thorin that scared since cousin Borin told him that tale about," here his voice became very dramatic as he teased his older brother, "the Gorgbuzal!" _

_"Shut up Frerin!" Dis and Thorin cried out in unison. Frerin fell quiet at this. _  
_Finally it was Thorin who spoke, "If Grandfather finds out about this, we're all doomed." _

_The faces of all three fell at this thought, and there was a heavy silence for a good many minutes. All thinking equally unpleasant thoughts. Thror was very strict, and would not stand for foolishness, especially from those of the line of Durin. It was finally Frerin who broke the silence. _

_"Look...Thorin. Dis. I'm sorry. I really am." He looked then truly repentant, "and I promise I won't do any more tricks for a good long while." _

_"Notice he's not saying "I promise I won't do any more tricks" but only saying that he won't for a good long while." Dis said, rolling her eyes. _

_"Dis!" Frerin whined, "You know I couldn't stop doing them forever!" He looked hurt. _

_Thorin sighed, showing that he had come to a decision. "It's alright Frerin." _

_"Oh that's wonderful," Dis said, "So what do we do now?" _

_"Pray that grandfather doesn't find out." Thorin said with a distinctive mournful quality. If Thror did find out, there was precious little that would save them from what the Dwarflings viewed as the end of their world as they knew it. _

_"I have to go." Dis suddenly said, explaining as she stood up, "Lessons today." She made a face showing her dislike of said learning sessions, to which Frerin stood up as well and nodded in an understanding fashion. "Keep an eye on him Thorin." she then trotted off at a good speed so as not to be late. _

_"More like I need to keep an eye on him!" Frerin retorted at her with a grin as she turned and shouted something incomprehensible. _

_The two lads then began making their own leisurely way home to the palace, Thorin looking particularly gloomy. Frerin noticed this and shook his head with a sad smile. _

_"Look Thorin. I am sorry. Really." _

_"I know." was all that Thorin answered. With a sigh Thorin relented, placing his arm warmly on Frerin's shoulder and smiled. _  
_"Let's get something to eat. All this running about has made me hungry." _

_Frerin grinned, knowing that he was once again in his brother's good favor. "I'm so hungry I could eat all of Marza's pies!" _

_"Don't!" Thorin looked alarmed and gave Frerin a warning frow, but Frerin giggled seeing his brother's expression. Thorin, realizing he'd been had, smacked his brother on the shoulder with a smirk. _

_Laughing, the lads walked hand in hand back home._

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_Balin growled as he reached the door to the comfortable lodgings his company had, swinging it open bad temperedly, he stormed inside nearly bumping into his younger and taller brother Dwalin. The tall Dwarf stared in disbelief at his older brother's face, and then did what Balin considered the worst possible thing. He laughed. _

_"Durin's beard brother!" Dwalin roared, seeing his brother's stormy and oddly colored face, "What's happened to your face? Have you seen it?" _

_"Yes! I have!" Balin snarled, shoving by his amused sibling with an air of injured dignity. _

_Dwalin's laughter could still be heard in the hall as Balin entered upon the rest of the company eating their noonday meal. At first there were a few curious stares, but then their was an embarrassing silence. Balin shifted uncomfortably, but then bravely made his way through. It was then that the company exploded in laughter. Passing through another door into a back room, Balin swore, he would have his revenge for this humiliation! _

_Grabbing a cloth and standing before a mirror, Balin began scrubbing his face furiously. The sooner this terrible color was removed, the better. Dwalin came and stood within the doorway, watching the proceedings with a slightly curious and amused face. _

_"How'd it happen?" The tall Dwarf asked. _

_"I was attacked by a bunch of scoundrels!" Balin barked, "It isn't even safe to walk the streets in the day!" _

_"Ah." Dwalin nodded, who found the situation rather comical, that anything could put his usually cheerful brother into so foul a mood. _

_"Is it coming off?" the Tall Dwarf asked. _

_"No! It isn't!" Balin shouted, very vexed indeed. How could he still see the king like this? The embarrassment would kill him. _

_Another Dwarf poked his head in the doorway, "Try lemon juice, milk, and honey. My mother used to use that when I was a lad." he tried helpfully. _

_"I'll get some." Dwalin offered generously, trotting away to fetch the desired ingredients. _

_Within a few minutes he had returned, and by now more of the dwarves had begun to gather into the room, sensing a problem that needed fixing. If there is one thing Dwarves enjoy, it is solving problems, especially if they are difficult or interesting ones. Without hesitation, Balin tried the mixture, rubbing it on with the cloth with a hasty motion. The Dwarves held their breath, to see whether or not the mixture would work. _

_After a few moments, the result was evident. _

_"It's not working!" Balin squeaked, his voice tinged with panic. _

_The other Dwarves then began wildly suggesting hundreds of methods, each desiring to help their distraught companion. Dwalin then motioned for quiet. _

_"I know why it does not come out." Wrinkling his nose Dwalin continued, "Judging from the smell, this is a special dye used for...well pranks. An old Dwarven trick in these parts. It won't come out, not until tomorrow. You best be on your way brother, there's nothing to be done, and you cannot keep the King waiting." his eyes were indeed sympathetic, but there was really no choice. Thror did not like to be kept waiting. You were not late. It was as simple as that._

_The general feeling among the Dwarves was then one of attending a funeral, as Dwalin somberly handed Balin his cloak and the other Dwarves kept a respectful silence. Balin's face was the very picture of absolute misery as he trudged along the way to the palace._

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_Frerin fidgeted, and gained a disapproving elbow from Dis, he did not enjoy standing next to Thror's throne during these long (and usually boring) affairs of state. He would much rather be racing around outside, but for some reason unknown to him, Thror felt it important that both his grandsons had an idea of what running a kingdom consisted of. Dis often felt it her duty to see that Frerin behaved himself._

_While Frerin was daydreaming and quite unhappy with the situation, Thror had Thorin's undivided attention. The young dark-haired lad took in every detail, and had an excellent memory for such things. Knowing that someday he would be King, made the young prince feel the importance of learning from his grandfather. _

_A guard marched into the throneroom, announcing the next visitor. _

_"Balin, son of Fundin my lord." he said solemnly. _

_"I will see him." Thror answered gravely. He was indeed a majestic figure, the King Under the Mountain, with a venerable white beard that was intricately braided and decorated. A massive crown graced his head, with heavy and rich robes swooshing about him. His grandsons were also dressed richly, but in a manner fitting to young Dwarflings that spent their days doing whatever it was that Dwarflings do. With short cloaks edged with rich furs, and tall boots, they cut fine figures. Thorin appeared every bit the reserved prince, at ease with his surroundings. Frerin looked uncomfortable in just his clothes, and kept shifting his feet that ached to be running far away from this doldrum. _

_The Throne Room was indeed a room of special magnificance. Although one could hardly call it a 'room', for it was more of a hall, with many arches and rich carvings. The very picture of great and unsurpassed wealth. The Throne itself was of gold, cunningly crafted and set with many gems. The greatest of kings would widen their eyes at it, for it shone as few things on this earth do, a symbol of the King Under the Mountain's power and splendor. _

_The great doors opened with a loud groan, as quick footsteps approached. The Dwarf bowed low with great ceremony, adressing Thror by his many titles. _

_The eyes of Frerin, Dis, and Thorin however, had grown quite large with panic. They had recognized the Dwarf by his deeply stained face and great beard, and knew that it would only take an ill fated glance for Balin to recognize them as the ones responsible for his face. _

_Rising, Balin's eyes glanced over to the side of the throne, what fine lads and lass the King had. These must be the King's grandchildren, he had heard much of them. But wait! The dark haired one with his beard just growing in, that now looked with at him with great fear, it was one of those Hooligans! He recognized him without a doubt! His face became contorted with righteous anger. _

_"Y-Your Majesty," he began, scarcely keeping the rage from his voice. _

_Thorin, Dis, and Frerin shared a look of panic, their eyes growing as wide as saucers, but glued to the spot because they dared not disobey their grandfather. _

_But a great smile had grown upon the King's face upon seeing Balin's face. Surely this was a tale worth hearing! He raised his hand for silence and stopped Balin in mid-speech. _

_"Tell me, Balin son of Fundin, is there a plague among your noble people?" The King's eyes twinkled in amusement. _

_"Oh...uh, no my Lord." Balin answered, unprepared for such a question, and also somewhat distracted by the Dwarflings. _

_Their faces looked as if they were begging for mercy, and Thorin hastily began communicating in Dwarven sign language behind the throne and well out of his Grandfather's sight. Promising eternal servitude and all that a Dwarfling can offer if Balin only spared them, as Frerin nodded frantically in agreement._

_"Then tell me," the King's smile grew wider, "How came your face to appear so?"_

_Frerin and Thorin held their breath, waiting to see what Balin would do. _

_Balin was just about to let the King know everything his terrible grandsons had been up to, when he noticed Thorin and Frerin looking very nervous indeed. He closed his eyes for a moment as he sighed, he was much too soft on them he knew, but he couldn't really find the heart to turn such frightened looking Dwarflings in. He would never hear the end of this now. _

_"It was...an accident my lord." he said, opening his eyes and nodding. Dwalin was right, he was too soft. Oh well, there are worse things he supposed. _

_Skillfully, Balin brought the King's attention back to the matter at hand, and Thror became absorbed with his Kingly duties. The children felt ready to faint in relief, the mad 'nutter' as Frerin had called him, had just saved them from a very unpleasant conversation with their grandfather. Dis skillfully stomped on Frerin's foot in revenge. A resounding yelp resulted, but Thror and all else in the throne room ignored it, save for Thorin, who merely gave a deep frown at his rowdy siblings. They were supposed to be paying attention anyway. _

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_Balin sat down with a satisfied sigh on a conveniently placed bench outside of the palace. It had been a good day after all. The meeting had been favorable, he had performed a good deed, and was now almost finished with his most delicious and satisfying lunch. Yes, the day had been a good one, despite the incident with Thror's grandchildren. No matter. He only hoped now that they would leave him alone. He had done them a good turn after all, it wasn't too much to ask. _

_He opened the satchel by his side, searching for the jewel of the meal. His face lit up with pleasure as he found it and pulled it out, an example of cooking at its best, a Dwarven sweetcake. The mortal men in Dale thought them to have a magical quality, and there was nothing that could compare for many miles. _

_He was just about to bite into this delicacy when with a jump, he noticed two small and warm bodies on either side of him. Glancing from one side to the other looking quite confused, he saw that it was none other than Dis and Frerin, with disturbingly large smiles plastered on their faces. Frerin blinked his large brown eyes, looking as innocent as a cherub. _

_"Oh, thank you so much for not telling Grandfather." Dis began, fluttering her eyelids in a most disconcerting manner. Balin shifted uncomfortably, what did these Dwarflings want? _

_"Yes." came another voice, looking up Balin saw Thorin looking quite grateful, "You have our deepest thanks. If we can ever be of assistance, do not hesitate to ask." The Dwarfling tried to sound very grown-up, as if this was a business deal. Balin noticed that Frerin's eyes had lighted on his sweet, and he slowly moved it away from him as he answered. _

_"Um...you're welcome...I suppose. Just...uh, no more tricks, alright lads? Lass?" _

_The three children nodded their heads vigorously. _  
_"Right." said Balin, "Good. Well first things first then, perhaps you'll introduce yourselves like gentledwarves?" _

_Thorin remembering his manners, gave a stiff nod as he said, "Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, at your service. This," he gestures towards his siblings, "Is my brother Frerin, and my sister Dis."_

_Frerin says nothing, until Dis aims another kick at him, causing him to remember his manners, "Oh, um, at your service!" he manages out, looking at Balin with a winning grin. Balin cannot help but think there is great mischief behind it, and that this one must be watched carefully._

_Dis extends her hand gracefully to Balin, who smiles as he takes it and plants a small kiss on it. _

_"Honored I am sure m'lady." Balin replies smoothly. Dis giggles and turns red._

_"I am Balin, son of Fundin, at your service." Balin smiles wryly, to see these children behaving so well now, one could hardly believe they had been the same Hooligans running the streets earlier. _

_"Balin..."says Dis slowly, "It's a nice name." _

_"Well of course it's a nice name!" Thorin says, "I very much doubt anyone's parents would name them something that isn't nice." _

_Frerin snickers. Dis growls at Thorin, and would surely have aimed her small fist at him if they had not been separated by Balin, who looked extremely uncomfortable having so upset a young lady next to him. _

_"You're new here aren't you?" Thorin politely asks. _

_"Yes." Balin answers, "Came here only a few days ago as a matter of fact." _

_"What part of the city are you staying at?" _

_Balin wonders for a moment whether letting this information out is a good idea, but perhaps it would do no harm._

_"South end. Why?" _

_Thorin nods, and looks as if he is about to say something else when he is interrupted by Frerin. _

_"Durin's beard! We're going to miss our meal Thorin!" His eyes take on a look of panic, this was a calamity facing them. Dis seems to share this feeling, and even Thorin looks unsettled. _

_"Um..." The Dwarf prince stumbles, "It was a pleasure meeting you, but we have to go! Thank you for not telling grandfather!" He then beckons towards his siblings, and races off at the same breakneck speed they had used that morning. _

_Dis jumps off the bench, quickly followed by Frerin, who finds it in him to turn and smile at the Dwarf before catching up with his siblings. _

_Balin chuckles to himself. Dwarflings. They never cease to surprise you. He then looked back to the delicious pastry and gasped! It was gone! What had happened to it?! That Hooligan! Frerin! _

_Balin leapt from the bench into a standing position, shaking his fist and shouting once more. _

_"Villains! Fiends! Ruffians!" A string of oaths followed this tirade, but the Dwarflings had already disappeared from the street, and with them the sweet. _

_Balin sighed sadly, shoulders sagging. Dwalin was right, he was too soft. _

_Balin heard no more of the young Dwarflings that day, and had to settle for no pastry with his lunch. The rest of the day was exceedingly fruitful, and his companions were quite pleased with their his success, praising his wisdom and tongue for gaining such a favorable result from the king. _

_They celebrated far into the night, slapping their comrade on the back many times, until it was quite sore. Many pints of beer were drunk, and much merriment had. As he lay in a comfortable bed that night Balin sighed in satisfaction, he had to admit, the day had gone pretty well despite his misfortunes. _

_It was then that he heard a timid knock at the door. Groaning as he pulled the warm covers off he stumbled towards the sound. Who would call at such a time? _

_Opening it with a gruff "What do you want?" he was surprised to see a young Dwarfling standing out in the cold and shivering as he drew his fur cloak about him. It was Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. _

_Without a word Thorin offered Balin a basket, with large repentant eyes. _

_Balin took the basket with a confused look, but upon looking inside it dawned on him. The basket was full of Dwarven Sweetcakes from the Royal kitchens. Before Balin could say anything Thorin spoke. _

_"I...I must apologize...for my brother's behavior." the lad seemed utterly embarrassed, and shifted uncomfortably, "so I have brought these, in order to replace the one he took. I am very sorry, and will see that it does not happen again. Good Evening." with that Thorin turned and was about to walk away when Balin stopped him. _

_"Laddie, it's a cold night. Why not come in and warm yourself by the fire?" _

_"Um..." Thorin stuttered nervously, he was very cold it was true. In fact it now seemed much colder than he had thought it was when he set out on his errand of justice, and the fire looked very inviting. "Erm. Yes, if it isn't any trouble that is..." _

_"None at all Laddie." Balin smiled, the Dwarfling's peace offering had really touched him. He opened the door wider and beckoned to the fire. _

_It was not until much later that night that Balin escorted a very happy and well fed Dwarf back to the palace. Balin had insisted that Thorin help him finish the sweets, claiming that there were much too many for him to finish on his own, and quite skillfully had brought out some things to go with it that he thought would tickle a young Dwarf's fancy. _

_After seeing Thorin safely home, Balin returned to his own lodgings. The moment he opened the door he smiled as the fire's warmth met his cold face. Yes, it had been a fine day. _

_As he took off his gloves he heard a footstep behind him, it was Dwalin. _

_"Where have you been all this time brother?" the tall Dwarf blinked sleepily. _

_Balin chuckled, "Oh, you would not believe it Dwalin. You would not believe it." _  
_Dwalin grinned, "Come now! I sense a tale! Tell me." he pulled a chair next to the fire as Balin told him the entire story, both brothers laughing at the Dwarfling's antics. _

_After much talk both the Dwarves rose to return to their quarters, dawn comes early to the Mountain, and it is wise to be ready for it. Dwalin chuckled, still thinking of Balin's adventures of that day. _

_"Eh, remember when we were like that?" He poked Balin with a grin and waggled his eyebrows teasingly. _

_Smirking Balin answered, "Aye, I remember when you were like that. I was always a good Dwarfling." _

_Dwalin roared with laughter. _

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

The firelight had died down low as Balin finished his tale of naughty Dwarflings, and his audience clapped in approval. Praising their storyteller's skill.

"A good tale Balin!" Fili exclaimed, clapping as Kili nodded vigorously in agreement.

"I should write that one down." Bilbo said thoughtfully, stroking his chin and wondering where on earth he might acquire a decent paper and pen.

Balin laughed, "Perhaps Mr. Baggins. But I may wish to write a book myself someday."

Kili wrinkled his brow as a thought crossed his mind, and he suddenly asked, "Balin?"

"Aye Lad?" the white bearded Dwarf asked.

"The two Dwarflings. The naughty one and his older brother. What happened to them, and who are they?" Balin had skillfully told his tale without mentioning any names, leaving Fili,Kili, and Bilbo quite curious as to their identities. Fili raised his eyebrows, as he looked expectantly at Balin, wondering the same thing as his brother.

Balin smiled sadly, "They became great warriors. Perhaps the greatest our people have ever known. I myself am honored to have been called their friend. For so it was after that day." The old Dwarf smiled fondly at the memory.

"Yes, but who are they?" Fili asked eagerly.

"Why Lads," Balin said, gazing intently at his eager audience, "The Dwarves in this story are none other than your Uncles. Thorin and Frerin." he smiled warmly as he added, "And they were a great deal like you two."

"Frerin?" Bilbo asked, "Thorin has a brother?"

Fili and Kili remained in respectful silence as Balin sadly shook his head. "He had a brother. Frerin fell bravely in the battle of Azanulbizar, defending the King from his enemies. Thorin was there at his last, and Frerin died in his arms."

"Mother talks about him a little. Uncle never talks about him..." Kili said shaking his head gravely.

"No." Balin said, "Thorin and Frerin were very...close. To say the least. Very much like you Fili and Kili."

"But come now!" Balin quickly changed the subject, "Let us speak of merrier things!"

The conversation then changed to the tale of Dwalin's run in with a large, frightening, and hairy creature that Balin referred to as a "Gorgbuzal". Harmless mostly, as long as one did not stand in their way, for they never stopped moving for anything. They frequented the deepest places of the earth and were the cause of many injuries.

It was many hours later when Balin woke Bofur for watch, which the cheerful Dwarf took without complaining. Fili and Kili had fallen asleep in a pile, resembling very much two puppies. Bilbo however could not sleep, perhaps his head was too full of thoughts, or he was simply not sleepy. With a sigh he made his way to the kettle on the fire with the intention of making a cup of tea to help him sleep. He sat down, warming his hands as the water boiled.

Glancing up he noticed that Thorin was awake as well, and staring moodily into the fire. The Hobbit could not be sure, but thought that the Dwarf Lord's usually firm eyes were slightly misty.

Sighing Bilbo suddenly said, "Can't sleep?" his eyes sympathetic.

Thorin's bright eyes read the Hobbit's face, and slowly he said, "I do not wish to, for the moment being."

Bilbo rolled his eyes, luckily the Dwarf did not seem to notice. The Hobbit quickly prepared two cups of tea, as Thorin watched him with some curiosity.

"What are you doing Mr. Baggins?" he asked suspiciously.

"Old remedy. A cup of this will do you some good." Bilbo offered the cup to the Dwarf, giving his best friendly smile.

The Dwarf was silent for a few moments, but finally with a sigh he took it.

Looking at the curious creature and his gift, and filled with a gratitude he could not put into words, Thorin managed out thickly.

"Thank you Mr. Baggins."


End file.
